


Warrior Wounds

by Impalapossible



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Reader-Insert, Serious Injuries, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalapossible/pseuds/Impalapossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean receives a call from an old friend who is injured, lost and in desperate need of help. What happens when he finds her and what emotions will return to the surface after all these years?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior Wounds

Dean wasn’t one to give out his number randomly and so he was surprised to see a number he didn’t recognize flash across his cellphones screen. He ignored it the first four times, but curiosity got the better of him. If someone wanted to get a hold of him that badly, it must be important. Swiping the screen, he answered.

“Hello. This is Dean.” Nothing came from the other line. He repeated himself, this time a twinge of annoyance in his voice. 

“Dean…” the voice was so faint he couldn’t quite make out the voice on the other line. Suddenly the phone filled with the sound of coughing and wheezing. Whomever this was, they were injured. Badly. 

“Hey, whoever this is. You gotta talk to me. Stay with me. I can’t help you if you don’t. Now tell me, who are you and what is going on?” 

“Dean…it’s me.” His eyes grew wide. This voice. The one that haunted his dreams on so many nights over the last few years. Your voice. 

It had been years since last the two of you spoke, but at one time the two of you were close. You were a hunter, a damn good one. He couldn’t count the number of times you saved his ass. And even when you weren’t hunting together, you would call each other at all hours of the day and especially the night, knowing that neither of you slept well. Many of those night calls led to meeting at dive bars scattered along the road where you would both get wasted and talk about your worries, fears, and just about everything else. Except the unspoken truth of your relationship that neither of you would ever admit to. How much you both had fallen madly in love with one another. 

The last time he spoke to you was just after Bobby died. He had called you seeking comfort and the two of you met up at some motel room outside of Memphis. Both of you got plastered and ended up sleeping together. When he woke up your side of the bed was cold and a note was left on the table that told him goodbye. He called your number a dozen times, but it had been shut off. The guilt of that night tore at him for weeks afterwards. It was all he could do to keep hunting with you and Bobby now gone from his life. 

And so he tried to forget about you. He pushed you out of his mind. Until now.

“Y/N! Y/N. Is this really you?” 

“Yeah, it’s me. I know I shouldn’t call you…”

Dean grunted disapprovingly. “Where are you Y/N?” 

“I…I don’t know where I am. I got jumped by some demons who dragged me to this factory. I managed to exorcise them…but not before they did a number on me.” 

Dean’s mind started racing. He had to get to you. He had to find you and get you somewhere safe. “Y/N. Is the GPS on your phone on?” 

“No…but I think I can turn it on.” 

“Good. Turn on location and just hold on. I will be right there. Hold on Y/N. I’m coming.” 

“Thank you Dean.” With that, the call ended. Dean quickly threw on his boots and jacket and made his way towards the impala. Once inside he did a quick search for your location from your phone. It took several minutes, but he finally located the signal and sped out as fast as he could to come get you. 

‘Hold on Y/N. Just hold on.’

You were passed out and covered in blood by the time Dean got to you. but you were still alive. For that Dean was grateful. After quickly bandaging the wounds he could see Dean gently pulled you into his arms. Although the smell of blood hit him first, it was followed by the familiar sweet scent that always seemed to emanate from you. He looked into your peaceful face and let out a sigh of relief. You were safe. He gently put you down in the passenger seat of the impala and buckled you in before slipping into the drivers side and heading off towards the bunker. 

As he pulled into the garage you began to stir. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you turned towards Dean just as he put the car in park.

“Where are we?” You mumbled. 

“Somewhere safe. Give me one second and I will help you get out of the car.” Dean didn’t wait to hear your protests, getting out of the car and moving to the passenger side. He opened the door and reached over you and undid the seat-belt before reaching around you, scooping you up in his arms. Now conscious, you gave more of a fight against him doing this. A hand hit him in the face and he nearly dropped you just as he had gotten you out of the car. 

“Knock it off Y/N. I am just trying to help you out.”

“I am not a damsel in distress. Put me down this instance or your face won’t be the only thing I aim for.” 

Sighing, he reluctantly set you down onto your wobbly feet. Dean smirked as you tried to take a few steps before falling backwards into his open arms. “Dammit.” You shouted causing Dean to start chuckling. He had missed your stubborn resolve. 

“Some things never change.” Dean said as he wrapped one of your arms around his neck, holding it in place while his free hand wrapped around your waist. This form of help was met without resistance and both of you started walking towards the entrance to the bunker. He slowly guided you towards the bathroom. He helped you slide onto the bathroom floor. 

“You wait here. I will go get some stuff to clean you up.” 

“Don’t forget the whiskey.” 

Dean turned to look down at you, a weak smile spread across your lips. He raised a brow at you.

“Whiskey? Don’t you think it is a bit earlier to fall back into our bad habits.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t I gone through enough? Don’t I deserve a shot of whiskey while you patch me up?” 

“Good point. I will be right back with the first aid kit and some Jack.” 

Dean came back with what he had promised with the addition of a one of his long plaid shirts. He wasn’t sure you would want to get changed in front of him, but your clothes were caked in dried blood and dirt and he didn’t want you to have to suffer wearing that any longer. 

“Alright, this is going to be awkward, but your going to need to strip down so I can get a better look at the damage.” You shook your head. 

“I don’t think I can get it all off myself Dean. You will have to help me.” While you said it so matter-of-factly, Dean noticed you were nervous. How could you not be? The last time he had seen you in your underwear was the last time he had seen you. Dean took a knee and brushed your hair behind your ear, a spark running through him from the sensation. He managed to contain his excitement up until now, but his facade was cracking. He never stopped longing to be so close to you again. ‘Calm down man. You don’t want to scare her now.’ 

“Don’t be scared. I can help you. It isn’t like this will be the first time I have patched you up.” Dean moved his hands to the buttons on your shirt and carefully started unbuttoning them, trying to conceal the redness rising into his cheeks as more of your skin was exposed. Once he finished he tossed the dirty shirt towards the bathroom door. He then turned his focus towards removing your shoes, and finally your jeans. 

Once he had finished getting you into your undergarments, he reached for the first aid kit and went to work. He kept his fixing you up and the two of you sat there is relative silence with the exception of your occasional grunts of agony as he stitched you up. Closing up the last wound, he scanned your body. You were just as beautiful as he remember, even with the new scars and stitches scattered across your form. He tried not to let his eyes linger to long on any one part, but he wanted the map of you in his mind. Finishing his examination he let his eyes meet yours. Here you were, the woman he lost all those years ago, back in his life. On his bathroom floor in your underwear. Your face inches from his. Your body heat mingling with his own. If it had been under other circumstances there would be more than a pile of bloody clothes scattered across the floor around the two of you. 

The two of you sat there staring at one another for another minute before Dean cleared his throat and moved to his feet. He quickly started washing his hands in the sink before grabbing the clean shirt he brought in and tossing it towards you. You quickly put it around your frame, leaving it unbuttoned while Dean reached for the whiskey. He took the spot beside you and set the bottle in between your bare legs. He watched as you fumbled with the cap for a moment before pulling the bottle to your lips and taking a giant swig. 

“Ahhh. Refreshing. You want some?” You asked, holding the whiskey in front of Dean’s face. He took the bottle in his hands and also took a giant swig before returning it to the spot he originally placed it. An uneasy silence filled the room. Neither of you certain of what to say or how to break the building tension. It took the bottle being nearly empty before you opened your mouth to speak. 

“So…thanks Dean for saving me. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did.” 

“No you didn’t Dean. It isn’t like we parted on good terms or anything. The last time you saw me we…well…we…” Dean reached out and clasped your hand in his. 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. The past is the past.” 

Tears started rolling down your cheeks and before Dean knew it, he had released your hand and wrapped you in his embrace. Resting his head on top of yours, he let you soak his shirt through with tears. 

“It’s okay Y/N. I am here. It’s okay.” He whispered in between placing soft kisses on top of your head. When you finally stopped crying he leaned back just as you leaned your face upwards. You were so close now. Your lips were next to his. Your breath mingling with his own. His body cried out to bridge the gap between the two of you, but his mind told him to back off. He didn’t want to lose you by doing something stupid. Before he could pull away, your lips met his in a gentle sweet kiss. His heart started pounding in his chest. Kissing shouldn’t cause fear to rush through him like this. 

You broke the kiss first and Dean searched your expression for an answer.

“Y/N..why did you ju-” You pressed a finger to his lips. 

“Not tonight. We can talk about this tomorrow. But for now just let it be. I am too tired to deal with it right now.” Dean nodded, agreeing to let it go for now. Your finger dropped from his lips and you nuzzled yourself against his neck. Within minutes you started snoring. Dean sighed. This wasn’t how he planned to spend one of his rare days off and he didn’t like leaving this all up in the air. However, having you in his arms again and knowing you were safe. It eased a part of his heart that had been so desperate for answers. Tomorrow you could deal with tomorrow. For tonight, it was you and Dean together again. Warriors, friends, and potential lovers.


End file.
